


Candlelight Shadows

by LuchaDoRa



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Antisepticeye Sean McLoughlin, Blood and Gore, Bottom Sean, Dark, Darkiplier Mark Fischbach, Dorks in Love, Dreams and Nightmares, Eventual Smut, Friendship, Inner Demons, Inner Dialogue, Internal Conflict, Jack has ADHD, M/M, Mark Works in a Library, Mental Instability, Neighbors, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Suave Darkiplier, Suggestive Themes, Teasing, Top Mark, dark characters, gothic horror, no youtube au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-02-11 12:24:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12935211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuchaDoRa/pseuds/LuchaDoRa
Summary: "The dark isn't what you should be afraid of. You should be afraid of what's in the dark. The dark can't hurt you. But I can."Mark is an ex-engineer working in a library to pay the rent. He doesn't deserve appreciation.Jack moves in across the hall. There's more under the surface than the clover-green of his hair.Everyone has their own demons.So why are they dreaming about each others?





	1. Alone but Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try something new and a little challenging for me. Strap yourselves in because this is going to be one long ride. Bear with me, guys.

The library was cold. Mark shivered, feeling the hem of his shirt ride up as he reached to put a book back on its high shelf. It really annoyed him that the same, educated people who came in here to fucking _read_  didn't know how to put books back in their right places. 

It was late now; past nine, so the library was closed. Mark didn't mind working there. He liked it even. It was quiet, and no matter how incredibly sociable he was, he liked some time to himself as difficult as it was to believe. In fact, working in a library had turned him into quite the bookworm. Before the job, the last time he looked in a book was in college. Even then, it was an engineering textbook. Actually, he only remembered picking it up a grand total of two times throughout the duration of his four-year course, and he somehow managed to fluke a degree with a shrug. He was an intelligent guy, but Mark wasn't arrogant. It wasn't that he thought he was too smart to study, it was more that he really couldn't care less about it because he didn't even want to do the course in the first place. Pass or fail, it didnt matter. Look at him now. The engineering qualification was _really_  getting him places. 

He slammed a book back into its slot on the shelf to emphasise his point. The high ladder rocked on its wheels against the tall bookcase, making Mark grunt. He pushed his crooked glasses back onto his face, ignoring his erratic heartbeat. Mark imagined what it would be like falling and being buried under a hundred hard-backs. 

Right. That ladder will need reporting in some health and safety measure. 

Mark took a glance at the grandfather clock by the reception. It was quarter-past nine now; his shift had finished. The health and safety report could wait till tomorrow. And if his co-worker Will just so happened to use the ladder before then, oh well. Will was an ass.

It was dark before Mark got home, but he didn't mind the dark. His apartment was one of three on the second to top floor, the one opposite to his being inhabited and other home to the cranky old cat lady at the end of the hall. 

"Hi, Ms. Gilderoy."

She picked up the milk bottle and slammed the door. 

Mark raised his eyebrows and then unlocked his door. When he got inside he sighed and picked up the envelopes. Bills, bills and rent. Great. 

Shockingly, being a librarian didn't mean good pay. Mark had been struggling since he lost his engineering job. A few years ago, he had health issues and had to be taken into hospital. He was fine then until earlier that year, when he had to be taken in again. This time it was serious and he had a lot of time off work, but his boss wasn't very understanding. He got fired, for being an 'unreliable worker'. Of course, no engineering company took him on after that. 

Mark didn't care anymore. He never really liked engineering anyway. It wasn't stimulating enough. All through his academic life he was pushed towards success so much that it made him afraid of failure. But what is success really? It was relative. To a homeless person, success is a decent meal. 

With that thought to brighten him, he microwaved some food and sat down at his computer. Video games had a thing to make you forget. He could sit for hours to mash away at his controller or flinch from jumpscare after jumpscare.

Finally when the clock read something after one, he settled for the night. With his face to the ceiling, he fell asleep. 

 

 

* * *

 

  

_"Did you forget me?"_

_"No... No, please."_

_"You know better than to ignore me, Mark."_

_"Let me sleep. Please just let me sleep."_

_"Only those who deserve sleep get it. You aren't deserving of anything. Not even that shitty job you managed to get."_

_"Not tonight. Let's not do this tonight."_

_"Then I can come back tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that."_

_"Just stop it!"_

_"Are you begging? Is this what it's come to? Are you that pathetic?"_

_"Leave me alone!"_

_"You're never alone, Mark. Never."_

 

 

* * *

 

  

Work was eventful the next day, to say the least. Well, more than what he was prepared for; running on 4 hours max of wink time from the night before. 

It didn't help him showing up late and looking like a mess either, after having a nasty fall over a cardboard box on the hall stairs. Jeez, did the cleaners just purposefully leave hazardous stuff around?!

When he did get to work, his shift had already started and his co-worker, Will, decided to be an ass about it.

"Late again, Mark? You should probably stick to the night shifts,  _buddy."_

Mark ignored Will for his sake and not his own. But Will continued the indirect harassment, and pretty soon Mark was thankful he had a short shift. 

"You know, I would gladly take your morning shifts, considering you'll take my night ones of course..." He carried on the chatter as he climbed the ladder to put books back on the shelf. Mark let the voice drone out. When he first started, he was pretty friendly with Will like he was to everyone. Mark let it slip that he prefered night shifts because he was a bit of an insomniac, and since then Will hadn't left him alone about it. 

"It's simple really; you could take all the night shifts, and I could take the morning ones. Then we both get to spend our time productively!"

Mark knew exactly what Will meant by spending spending nights productively. With a roll of his eyes, he replied. "Or we could just stick to the shifts we have. I actually like the mornings."

When Will realised he wasn't going to get anywhere, he decided to stop pestering. He attempted to ascend the ladder again, only for it to creak unnaturally. Mark felt his blood run cold as he remembered. "Will, no!"

But Will had rocked the unsteady ladder and it rolled off its wheels, disconnecting itself from the bookcase and taking a yelling Will with it to the floor.

There was a horrid thud. "My arm!" Will shouted. "My arm's broken!"

Mark couldn't keep the guilt subsided in his gut as the ambulance sped his co-worker away. It bubbled away as he made his way home after his shift. Will might have been an ass, but he didn't really deserve to have his arm broken, did he?

 _Speaking of broken bones,_  thought Mark as he kicked another cardboard box aside in the hall,  _are these multiplying?_  

More of them were stacked up outside the apartment opposite to his. Mark assumed someone had to be moving in. 

He crept a little closer and looked at the front door which was wedged open with a particularity heavy looking box. Heavy metal was emanating from inside. 

A pale man with striking green hair appeared and bent to pick up a box outside the door. He noticed Mark as he straightened up.

"Hey!" He said cheerfully. "I'm Jack, I just moved."

 


	2. Follow to the Ends of the Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time you read the word box in the chapter take a shot
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Of water to stay healthy and hydrated guys

Jack was a bit of a miscellaneous guy. That is, he was a bit all over the place. He spoke a bit too quickly, even for his fellow Irish folk and he was just about as Irish as you could get. His hair was green for fuck's sake, you really couldn't get more Irish than that unless you were planning on being a leprechaun. 

He was a bit jumpy too, and not always in a good way. He'd constantly get called on for being too fidgety, too hyper, too chatty. He couldn't help it. He was a chipper lad, so easily distracted. 

Moving to Cincinnati was the first thing he finally did for himself. It was a drastic change, but it was one he needed badly. He just couldn't take being cooped up in his parent's wood cabin any longer. It was like a breath of fresh air into tired lungs.

Jack realised soon enough that living alone had just as many drawbacks as it had perks. This presented itself to him on his arrival to the apartment. The moving company responsible for all his stuff had "regretfully" misplaced everything and he spent half a day chasing them up. Unlucky for them, Jack had enough energy to continue shouting till someone broke and his stuff was shipped out soon enough.

When the stuff did come, the first thing he did was throw on a Metallica CD and headbang because...

Well, because he could, really. But it was soon interupted by an angry looking old woman hammering on the door.

"If you don't mind," she started, "Could you fucking keep it down?!"

Jack blinked and nodded, in shock from how loud a sound such a tiny woman could produce. He decided to turn it down a notch and unpack. 

There were piles and piles of boxes everywhere, even stacked up outside in the hall where the moving company left them. Assholes. 

Jack started to bring them in, one by one. As he was doing so, he noticed a guy watching him from across the hall. He straightened up. "Hey! I'm Jack, I just moved."

Interest flashed over the man's features before he smiled back.  _Fuck,_ thought Jack.  _This guy is really good looking._

"Hi, I'm Mark." He stuck out his hand. 

Jack attempted to shake it before realising he still had a cardboard box in his arms. Sheepishly, he juggled with it before grasping Mark's hand. His neighbor looked around at the multitude of boxes in the hall. 

"Need any help with these?" He offered. 

"Actually if ya' wouldn't mind, yeah. I got here late yesterday evening, but my stuff didn't arrive till later this morning, ya' see, so I didn't get a chance to sort anything out."

For a solid minute after he spoke Mark gawped. "Sorry," he apologised, remembering himself and shaking his head. "But where are you from?"

Jack chuckled. "Ireland. Did the accent throw ya'?"

"It did actually." Mark smiled, picking up a box and following Jack into the apartment. 

"Oh, wait till I get started. I've been told I talk a lot. Give it five, and you'll be begging me to shut my damn mouth. Just drop the box anywhere, I really don't care. And sorry about the mess."

Mark set the box down onto a stack of similar looking boxes. 

Jack wandered to the fridge. "Wanna crack open a cold one?"

"No thanks dude, I don't drink."

Jack heard a record scrape in his brain and backed out of the fridge. "Ya' dont?"

"Not out of choice, believe me."

"What do ya' mean?"

"My body doesn't process alcohol because I have a deficient enzyme. I had an incident... not too long ago, but doctor's orders since then: I can't drink." Mark shrugged. 

"At all?" Jack gasped. 

"Nope." Mark laughed. 

"Jeez. If that were me, I'd be fucking dead. I'm Irish. My body is 60% alcohol."

Mark laughed heartily. "Just 60%?"

"Hey!" Jack clipped, laughing too. That laugh was crazily contagious. "I'm Irish, not a drunk. Get it right."

"Thought they were the same thing."

"Fucking hilarious." Jack rolled his eyes, but was smiling at the banter. He didn't mind, he was cut out for a good offensive joke. "Back in Ireland, a couple of drinks in the evening is the norm. Guess there aren't a lot of pubs round here." His nostalgic expression became sorrowful at the thought of home.  

"Not really," Mark said. "But there's a good bar not too far. I could show you around, if you want."

Jack's eyes suddenly lit up. "Really? That would be awesome! But wait, what are you going to do at a bar, dummy?"

"I'll drink water. Besides, someone has to drive home, right?"

"Good plan. How about Friday?" Jack offered. "Gives me some time to sort all this shit out." He kicked at the mess.

"Sounds good." Mark said, bringing in another box. "Do you need help unpacking it?"

"No, no, dude! I have it covered! Besides, the moving guys got all the big furniture anyway, it's just the little stuff." Jack took the box out of Mark's arms. Shit, that was a heavy one. As he set it down, Jack took a peak at Mark lifting the boxes like they were nothing. Damn, did he have a pair of arms. 

"So," Mark said, startling Jack. "Why the move so far from home?"

"Uh," Jack stuttered. "I guess I just needed the change really, I don't like staying in the same place for too long." He hoped Mark didn't see through him, but he obviously did, even if he didn't comment on it.

"That's cool. I was actually born on Honalulu."

"Like, Hawaii?"

"Yeah. But, my mom's Korean and my Dad is German."

Jack almost dropped a box. "Get outta town."

Mark laughed again. "I know. I'm a bit of a mixed up dude."

"That's awesome!" Jack exclaimed. "Actually, ya' do have an Asian look about ya'."

"Is it the small eyes? Who's being racist now?" Mark quirked an eyebrow. 

He bent to grab one of the last few boxes, when Jack nearly yelled.

"Take it easy with that one! That's my computer setup!"

Mark froze. "You game?"

The next hour or so consisted of video game talk that would have gone on a lot longer, but Mark being polite as ever, decided he had overstayed his welcome and left, with a promise to see Jack on Friday.

"See ya'!" Jack waved, as he crossed the hall. 

When he was alone, he started unpacking the boxes, first emptying the kitchen stuff and moving on to his bedroom stuff last. 

He realised as he unpacked the final box, how little of home he had brought with him. A photo frame came out of the box, and that seemed to be the only thing reminding him of home. The photo was old. It was when he was a teenager, and the whole family decided to take a photo on the garden porch together in the summer. He smiled painfully, the memory now bittersweet. He carefully placed it on the side and finished unpacking.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_The man in black stood against the endless void, leaning back onto it as if it had physical tangibility when in actual fact, he wasn't leaning against anything at all. It gave him a careless look even with the knife he rolled between his fingers._

_"Here we are again, just like yesterday, and the day before." His voice echoed like there were many talking at once._

_"Anti, please..."_

_"Round and around, again and again in fucking circles," he continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted. The knife twirling ceased instantly. "Fucking circles!" He shouted, suddenly in front of Jack's face._

_Jack fliched back. "I-"_

_"Did you really think you could get rid of me so easily? Did you think moving away from your problems would really work?" He laughed manically as his head swayed from left to right. "You are the problem!"_

_"Everywhere you go, I will be there. I am in control!" He laughed again, twitching violently. He cupped Jack's face with a rough hand. "You are nothing. You are weak!"_

_Jack whimpered._

_"Say it!"_

_"I-I'm weak." He whispered._

_A laugh echoed right through to Jack's bones. "It doesn't matter how much you think you can recover, I will be there. Always. I will follow and watch you always._

_Jack knew it was true. Otherwise he would have beaten him a long time ago._

_"I'm not going anywhere. I'm always there." Jack felt the tip of the knife trace up from his hip to his chest and gasped, waiting for it, knowing it was coming..._

_"I'm always watching."_

Jack woke up as the knife plunged deep into his chest another time, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.


	3. A Stab in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic is tagged with a warning for graphic violence for a reason. Please take that into account whilst reading.

Mark _could feel a chill in his bones that he was all too familiar with, as if someone had drained all the joy and life out of the surrounding air. It made him feel dead inside. In fact, he tried moving his limbs but some strange form of sleep paralysis had taken over him, stiffening him like an unpright corpse. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. All there was was an infinite, cold blackness, empty except from him and himself._

_"Must we really do this, Mark? Have you not learned yet that you cannot escape? This what I have to do to get your attention; hold you still like a child." Darkiplier spat pitifully._

_Mark couldn't speak. His jaw was locked tightly and whatever energy he had was draining from him by the second. Dark noticed the lack of response but had no objections to continuing his monologue. He paced back and forth in front of Mark as if he was brandishing his ability to move._

_"Games don't amuse me, Mark. I know exactly what you know. I happen to live with those thoughts of yours, and my, do they get twisted." Dark tutted. "Like that ladder. You obviously left that on purpose, didn't you? You wanted him to fall."_

_Mark wanted to object to prove him wrong but he couldn't with his jaws bolted so tightly._

_"Something you want to say?" Dark came to a stop and folded his arms behind him, leaning forward with a questioning expression in his black-rimmed eyes. He smirked viciously. "I didn't think so."_

_Mark could feel his skeleton creak. He wanted so badly to move and at the same time, wanted so badly to lie down and never move again._

_Darkiplier sighed at him. "Such a waste of capability."_

_Mark tried forcing his legs to move so he could run away again, or even if he could just slap himself awake... anything to stop the torment._

_"If you think pain will wake you up, allow me."_

_A firm backhand struck his face hard enough to break his jaw. In fact, Mark was sure at the looseness of it that it had dislocated. A low throaty groan of pain was all that could come from his glued lips._

_Dark's voice went instantly deeper and was laced with rage. He pointed a finger at Mark's face. "Do not ever test me by trying to run away again. You are lucky that last night's incident won't have as severe repercussions as I had originally intended." He inhaled and regained his calm demeanour before continuing. "This is my world, Mark. You can't run away. I will make your nights so much worse than they are already."_

_Darkiplier placed a hand on Mark's chest. He paused theatrically for effect before pushing it right through. Pain seared through him in an unbelievable quanitity. Mark wasn't sure when his mouth started working again but he couldn't scream, all that emitted from his was a stangled cry. Then all of a sudden, the pain stopped. Dark withdrew his hand, giving Mark a second to look down at his disfigured chest. Instead he found it perfectly intact, only an elevated heart rate from the norm. He gasped. Dark smirked and recast his arm back into Mark._

_This time Mark knew it was real, because he could hear the skin rip not only once, but twice at the entry and exit of Dark's hand. The pain was unbearable and unlike anything he ever felt before. This time a scream left him as the fist tore through his ribcage. Dark seemed to relish in Mark's pain. He twisted his hand as if he was digging around to rip out his heart._

_Mark let out scream after scream until the scent of blood overwhelmed him. He could taste it rising in his throat as it rose and filled his airways. His choked screams began gargling over Dark's gratification._

_"Look at that." He said, withdrawing his hand. "You've made such a mess. And you've ruined my suit." Dark began obsessing over his suit sleeve, the idea of torturing Mark forgotten._

_The life was draining from Mark as the blood left him. Saliva dribbled out of his mouth, but the taste of iron told him it was blood. His body slumped to the floor, finally free of Darkiplier's concentrated hold._

_All he could think was that he wanted to die._

 

 

* * *

 

Mark awoke slowly like he was being lifted out of a deep deep slumber, but he felt like he hadn't got any sleep at all. His dreams never usually felt that long. 

He stretched his aching torso and wandered to the kitchen to make himself a coffee. He was going to need it. He had a long day ahead of him. 

He bumped into Jack on the way out.

"Hey Jack." He smiled whilst locking his door. 

Jack blinked, clearly half asleep. "Hey." He croaked. Poor Jack, Mark thought. He didn't look like he had much sleep. Mark guessed it must be difficult settling into such a foreign place. He bent down to pick up the milk bottle and straightened up with a yawn. He was still in pyjamas. His sleepy eyes and ruffled, messy hair was a good look though. A really good look.

"Yeah, it's a good idea to pick up your milk early in the morning." Mark commented. "Or Ms. Gilderoy takes it."

"Ms. Gilderoy?" Jack questioned.

"The lovely lady down the hall."

"Oh,  _that_ sweetheart."

"You met her?"

"Oh yeah. She's as sweet as honey."

Mark laughed, but it died quickly. "Just... if you ever do forget to pick up your milk, never,  _never_ ask her where it went. Just don't."

Jack didn't look worried. "What will happen if I do?"

"Let's just say I have well and truly learned my lesson."

Jack laughed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, Mark."

"I'm serious, don't do it!" He smiled.

Jack turned to open his door. "Oh yeah," he remembered turning back. "Are we still on for Friday?" 

"Yeah, of course! I'll stop by at around 7. We can take my van."

"...Ya' have a van?"

Mark closed his eyes and inhaled. "Don't ask."

 

 

* * *

 

 

The best thing about Mark's job was the great books he found, stuff he wouldn't think twice about opening. He turned over a book about the Lazarus effect to check the blurb before sticking it back on the shelf with appreciation.

"Excuse me?"

Mark turned.

"Can you help me find a book?"

The voice came from a young, pretty girl. She stood out right away, all long limbed and blonde hair.

Mark had to get a quick hold on himself. "Sure. What are you looking for?" 

"Something in graphic design. For work."

There was something about the way the light caught her eyes as she spoke that didn't match her nonchalant tone. Mark was great at reading people, and there was nothing nonchalant about graphic design to this girl.

"Great, it's just round here." He steered her to the right section and pulled out a couple of books that seemed of interest. "How are these?"

She turned them over, her eyes lighting up again. "These look good."

"You seem pretty excited."

She looked up quickly and let out a curt laugh. "I'm just relieved I found something. I'm doing a project - at work - and I was lacking some inspiration. Thank you, uh..."

"Mark." 

"Mark." She affirmed. "I'm Amy. Well, I wouldn't have found the books if it weren't you! Have you like, memorised the locations to every book?"

Mark didn't miss her swift change in direction of conversation but let it slide.

"It's kind of my job to know where they are," he chuckled. "But no, there are rows and rows of shelves in here that I could blow sandstorms off. Some books are probably heavier than me to lift!"

She laughed. "For you I bet it would be easy."

Mark smiled before doing a slight double-take. Was she... flirting with him? No, no. He was having auditory hallucinations, there was no way at all that such a pretty girl would think about flirting with him. 

He caught sight of himself in the mirror he passed as he carried Amy's books to be scanned. The reflection confirmed his thoughts. What was special about him?

He rushed through scanning the books and library card, working quickly with his head down and in silence. Thoughts swirled.

_"Don't get your hopes up, cretin."_

Mark's hands froze. His breathing stilled. That voice definitely wasn't in his head.

But it was, because no one else heard it. It was talking to  _him._

"Are you okay?" Amy asked.

Mark flicked his head back up to look at her and realised he had been still for a solid minute. He caught a lifeline. 

"Yeah sorry," he batted. "Just got a little fixated!" He pointed at the book. "It looks to be a really good read."

Amy smiled. "Thanks again for helping." She said as he handed it to her. "Bye now."

Mark's brow ceased as she left and he massaged his temples. He was getting a migraine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmu on twitter to harass me about updates
> 
> @lucha_do  
>  
> 
> Also do libraries still even exist? With the internet and shit? I don't know. But I have included it in my fic for aesthetic. DON'T JUDGE MEEE


	4. Fight or Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I left for a hot minute because I had exams but I'll try to be consistent

A shaky hand went up to straighten the crisp tie snug around his neck.  

Jack may have been positive and optimistic, but he wasn't naïve. He knew it was going to take a Hell of a lot of work to get a decent job in a new place. Especially with his fucking accent. It would be a while before it softened out, he guessed, but no one was going to hire a green-haired Irish with a sharp tongue. Not in Cincinnati. 

The building was really sleek and polished; he didn't want to ruin it by breathing too much or something. Jack guessed the big ass painting hung on the wall opposite to him in the corridor was there for relaxation, to add a bit of homeliness to such a sterile building, but it started to agitate him. 

It had swirls of black and green. He fought the urge to run away.

"Mr M-McLoughlin would you like to step in, please?"

Fuck. He didn't even know the last time he was this nervous. He smothered his hair to try and make it look as presentable as possible. He was so worked up he didn't even bother correcting the secretary on the mispronunciation of his last name. He smothered his hair a second time. 

"Nice to meet you." Jack shook the employer's hand firmly once he entered. The effort it took to surpress his accent was immense. 

"Take a seat."

He gulped. It felt like being in the Headteacher's office. He hated being still. His leg started tapping softly on its own accord.

"So you graduated with Hotel Management. Tell me about it."

"Actually I originally attended University for Music Technology, but I switched to Hotel Management. I figured it was a more appliable degree."

"Appliable in what way?"

His heart started beating faster. The foot tapping continued. "I learned a lot of useful skills like creating documentation that can easily be transferred into a working environment."

"Good." He wrote something in his notebook with a poker expression. It unnerved Jack even more. His foot tapping got louder. The employer stopped writing abruptly to look sharply at Jack's leg in a silent request. He ceased immediately. Fuck.

"What experience do you have?"

Jack went to open his mouth but air came out. Everything he wanted to say evaporated into heavy silence.

"Would you like me to repeat the question?"

Jack felt like hurling himself out of the window down five stories below.

"Yes, please." He could feel the judgement radiating from him as he repeated the question.

Jack knew he fucked it. He didn't know what he answered back at this point, his mouth was moving but his speech blurred in his ears. Great. Now he was going to have no job because no one was going to hire him and then he was going to be homeless and he'd have to hitchhike to the country where he'd have to sleep in cornfields and be eaten by wolves-

"Thank you, Mr McLoughlin. We'll be in touch."

Jack stood up and shook his hand again, thanked him for his time and walked out with rigid legs. That could not have gone any worse.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_It was always the minute that Jack closed his eyes for rest that he felt the need to open them again. When he did, he wasn't ever in his bedroom anymore._

_His eyes remained closed this time. Jack really didn't want to open them to see what nightmare had conjured up for him this time, didn't want to succumb himself to his periodic torment._

_Sooner or later, he knew he had to open his eyes or things would be worse for him. He knew he couldn't pretend._

_There was a chilly draft that blew across his bare legs. It was cold and the wind swayed him slightly. Jack inhaled and opened his eyes._

_And then instantly wished he didn't._

_"Whoa, oh Jesus!" He yelled. He was perched on the end of a crane, skyscraper height from the tarmac below. His arms gripped at the metal structure tightly. "Oh fuck! No, no!" His breathing sped up 10 beats to match his hammering ribcage. If there was one thing Jack hated, it was heights. He'd take multiple knives to the chest over this._

_His vision started to swim. 'It's not real.' He thought to himself. 'It's not real, it's not real.'_

_A crash of lightning to the left of him almost made him loosen his grip. He adjusted his grip, panting and wiped his sweat beaded forehead._

_"Did you miss me?"_

_Jack could feel the voice on the back of his neck. His skin crawled._

_"Oh God, please." Jack whispered, his eyes shutting to try and pretend he was anywhere else._

_"If you don't open your eyes sometime soon I'll gauge them out for you and make you eat them."_

_Jack didn't like the sound of that at all. He pried open his shut slits, jumping when he met the face of Anti sneering right in front of him. He was almost like a shadow, clad in black and floating in the air._

_"Oh, God. No. Help me." Jack babbled under his breath just to make sure his mouth still worked. His legs had numbed to the point where he could barely wriggle a toe, and they swayed lifelessly in the high-altitude wind. Jack's arms were beginning to numb too; his fingers tingling from blood loss at the iron grip._

_"Don't you recognise it? Of course not, it's a different perspective."_

_Jack tried to unravel the riddle Anti spoke in, but it was simple. It was the same building Jack was in for his job interview, only this time, he was on top it, dangling dangerously._

_Anti laughed crazily. He swayed left and right, glitching into different places. Jack envied his ability to resist gravity. "Isn't the view great up here!"_

_"Ah, fuck you." Jack summed up the courage to say, blaming sheer terror at the bravery._

_Anti didn't look amused. "I can make it much worse than this. It's not the actual height that scares you, is it? It's... falling." His face curved into a viscous grin._

_The blood drained from Jack's face. He went lightheaded but his grin tightened even further till pain shot through his strained wrists._

_"Ya'- ya' wouldn't..." Jack could just whisper._

_"Would I?" Anti cackled. He teasingly walked his middle and index fingers along the pipeline, brushing along on the metal._

_For some reason in Jack's irrational brain he figured that holding on even tighter would somehow prevent him from falling. His wrists complained._

_Anti glitched so he was now tightroping along the crane length, the wind having absolutely no effect on him._

_"Not yet. We haven't even had any fun tonight."_

_Jack simultaneously breathed both a sigh of relief and a sigh of terror. His grip loosened slightly._

_"Sucks to be you, Jack." Anti said, putting a foot in front of the other as he edged his way closer. "What kind of shitty person fucks up an interview so bad?"_

_Jack inhaled, trying to block him out._

_"You're such a coward. All you can do is run away. Just like you ran away from your family. There's isn't anyone as yellow as you." Anti edged closer, his footsteps eerily silent and without trace. "Problems follow like a shadow, Jack. You can't outrun your own shadow."_

_"Shadows can't hurt ya'." Jack whispered, more to himself than to Anti._

_Anti heard. Of course he did, nothing got past him._

_"I am not a shadow." He sneered. "I don't mimic anyone. I control. I pull the strings, do you understand me?"_

_Jack didn't answer._

_Anti clanged his foot against the crane, making the metal shake uncontrollably from its unsteady height. "Do you understand me?!"_

_Jack gasped and readjusted his grip. The shaking sent him dizzy beyond belief._

_"You're the type of guy who likes licking other people's shoes. No one tells me what to do."_

_"I do." Jack exclaimed breathlessly._

_Anti halted. Jack could only hear the howling wind. He wasn't sure if there was still anyone behind him anymore and he was too afraid to look back and check. What a stupid stupid stupid thing to say..._

_When the silence was too much, Jack turned so he could look his simulacrum in the eye. His hands kept a firm grip. But Anti wasn't there. No one was. Jack was alone at the top of a crane with nowhere to go but down._

_Jack turned back around._

_"I AM IN CONTROL!"_

_Anti appeared right in front of Jack's face with black eyes of rage. Jack jumped so violently he lost his grip and slid from the crane, catching himself at the last moment. He screamed._

_"Jesus, fuck!" Jack dangled with his weakened grip. His sweaty hands weren't going to last..._

_"I could kill you any time I want! Don't think that just because I choose not to that I won't." An evil smirk masked over the angry. "Say goodbye."_

_Anti nodded at the crane and it unhinged itself as if it was bending under Anti's will. It was after all, his world._

_Jack felt the metal tremble through his hands as it disconnected and rutted out of place. "No! No, no!"_

_Jack knew his grip falted when the force of gravity pulled the crane down with him. Tears welled up in his eyes, either from the force of the wind going past him or just from sheer terror, and he flailed around to do anything to stop homself from hitting the concrete below. It did nothing because the ground was speeding closer, and it was usually about this time when a person woke up. But Jack was inches away now, he couldn't even close his eyes._

_He felt his body smash into the tarmac._

* * *

 

 

When Jack awoke, his entire body ached as if he had been working out for a week straight. He tried to move, but found he couldn't. It was like his body was still stuck in the tarmac. He felt so tired he would go back to sleep if he wasn't so afraid. 

_Coward._

He sighed and looked over at the alarm clock on his bedside table. 

"Fuck." Jack said, not believing it was almost two in the afternoon. He pulled his body out of the bed, and turned on the shower so the hot water could ease his aching muscles. His wrists ached everytime he moved, like a dull reminder. But Jack tried not to dwell on things for too long. Shit happens, you move on. 

Quite literally, in his case.

The coffee was soothing as it ran down his throat, like he could finally think straight. With a glance at the calender, Jack realised it was Friday. 

He was going to hang with Mark today. 

With that to brighten him, he showered, suddenly feeling grossly sweaty from the night before.

Jack liked Mark; he seemed like a cool dude. He also was the only one who had shown him any kind of welcome, and didn't give him weird side looks as he passed him like he had an extra head. Mark always smiled, with that ridiculously good-natured... kinda cute...

Jack stopped himself. He had a bad habit of going off on tangents. Overthinking, overthinking.

He sighed. Anyway...

Jack took in a deep breath. He hadn't got a chance to really appreciate the quality of living alone. His parents house was never really quiet, there was always someone shouting about a lost shoe, or the dogs mess, or why there was no food in the fridge. Big families simultaneously sucked and ruled.

The time creeped on, and Jack styled his hair to try and make it less... leprechaun like. He had chosen a black outfit, he wasn't sure why but most his clothes were black. He stared at the mirror as he flattened his hair, trying to comb it over neatly.

The mirror stared back.

He knocked on Mark's door with a huge grin on his face. Mark opened it with an equally huge grin.

"Jack! I was just going to come get you. You look great by the way."

Jack flushed. "T-thanks."

The keys to Mark's van jingled in his hand. "Ready to go?"

"Still not sure what this van business is about."

Mark barked a laugh. "Alright," he adjusted his glasses. "I'll tell you the van's story after your first ride, how about that?"

From what Mark made it sound like, Jack was expecting a busted-up racket making machine, but it was fine. It was white, not rusty and the engine was smooth.

They got to the bar alive, which was all Jack cared about.

"So, when I was looking for a car online, I saw a listing for a white vehicle. I didn't see the picture, only the price." Mark began his story. They left the car to head into the bar. "It was cheap, I was getting a steal, so I didn't even look at the picture of what I was buying. I needed a set of wheels pretty urgently, so I messaged the owner saying I'd buy it and pick it up straight away." He guffawed at himself. "It turned put to be a white van."

Jack had to hold in his laughter at the idiocy. "So ya' bought anyway?!"

"I didn't want to look like an idiot! What was I supposed to do, tell him I decided not to buy the van because it turned out to be a van?" Mark tried to justify himself. They settled in their seats, shrugging off jackets. Jack took a look around. 

"This is a nice place."

"It is, isn't it? I'll get the drinks. What're you having?"

"Oh, surprise me." Jack said, making Mark smile. He returned with two clear glasses, one was water for himself.

"How you finding settling in?" Mark asked as he sipped.

"It's pretty nice here. Well different to back home. Bit difficult to get a job here though."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Oh, tell me about it."

Jack was intruiged. "What do ya' work as?"

Mark set down his glass. "I'm a librarian."

"Really? I didn't peg ya' as a librarian."

"I used to be an engineer."

Jack was floored. "Really?"

Mark didn't look too comfortable. "Yeah, it wasn't that great of a job really. Working in the library is a lot less demanding."

Jack nodded and sipped at his drink gingerly. He was quite tolerant, but he wanted to take it easy. It wouldn't look good to get himself pissed in front of Mark, and do something stupid he might regret later. It didn't help that he was _mildly_ attracted to Mark too. He didn't want to get too comfortable, too forward, and scare away pretty much the only friend he had made since moving. Jeez and here they were drinking (well he was) and discussing their jobs. It was the start of pretty much every textbook date ever. Stop overthinking Jack, he said to himself in his head. It was just two friends, having drinks, getting to know each other.

"Oh, how much was the drink?" Jack asked, suddenly remembering himself. 

Mark shook his head. "It's on me, don't worry." He smiled.

"No, I can't let you do that-" Jack started. He couldn't let him buy his drink for him, that was more like a date than anything else.

"Don't be silly, Jack." Mark interrupted. "Take it as a 'welcome to the neighbourhood' celebration." His aura was warm, Jack could feel so much good will in his words. 

"Okay, but next time I'm buying." Jack scolded, before his brain screamed at him. What next time?! Jack was securing a second date before the first one was even underway. 

"I'll hold you to that." Mark smiled again good-naturedly. It made Jack feel light. He took another swig to shake himself up a bit.

"You know, you should come down to the library one day. You'd like it. There's a whole section for comics."

Jack tried to smile and stay focused on the conversation, but Mark was incredibly distracting. He nodded where it was needed, added a line where appropriate, but he kept running a single thought through his head. 

Jack had a _crush_. 

 

 

 

 _And now he's mine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dream segment of this chapter was heavily inspired by an Antisepticeye animation by Sarielle on Youtube. Honestly one of the best animations I've ever seen. From one creator to another, the originality, art style and creativity was so unique I was so inspired, it was amazing! Check them out!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me something to let me know what you think.


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